


Distress

by Daisy_PoisonPen



Series: Lieutenant Dad one shots and drabbles [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Connor Needs A Hug, Connor loves hugs, Drunk Hank Anderson, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gavin Reed Being an Asshole, Lieutenant Dad, M/M, Savage Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Suicidal Thoughts, Super-angst, connor loves his dad, you're gonna need a drink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 16:51:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15514257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisy_PoisonPen/pseuds/Daisy_PoisonPen
Summary: Connor thinks Hank Anderson is in severe distress, which is distressing him.also, here's a really bad day at work that ends very well.





	Distress

Connor was aware of what the tendencies were.

 _Recklessness._ Last week, Hank pulled into the driveway at three am, not uncharacteristic for their job, but the terrible parking job was not. He observed Hank struggle out of his seatbelt and out of his car, promptly dumping onto the ground in an undignified heap. He pulled himself up and stumbled toward the door. Connor had a speech all ready for him when he met him, pulling him up and slinging the older man's arm over his shoulder. “It's incredibly irresponsible and downright dangerous for you to be driving in this state. You could lose your job, or your license—even your life, Hank! Have you lost your mind?! You should have called me, at the very least. I would have been very happy to make sure you arrived home safely.”

All Hank had mumbled was, “L-lightennupConnnnorrrrr. You—nagworshtgan m-mom did.”

 _Relapse or drug/alcohol abuse._ He hated that Hank had started drinking again, but Hank wouldn't hear anything about it. He always shrugged or gave him a pointed look while taking another swig of whiskey. He didn't save any room in the refrigerator for food worth eating anymore, instead forcing Connor to stuff the meager groceries around the boxes of beer bottles and cans. It was probably like a three months supply of beer, but he'd get through them in about two and a half weeks.

There was more than once where he came home and found Hank passed out into his plate at the dinner table, or fallen off the table onto the ground, much like he had one night, back when he'd first met Hank. Similarly, he'd sobered the man up, let him puke the excessive alcohol out of his stomach, and then poured the man into bed.

 _Giving away things that seem of sentimental importance._ Yesterday, Hank had lingered inside the car until Connor sent him a questioning glance. “Lieutenant?”

“We're not at work yet, kid.”

“We should be.”

“You're always... you're always fixing your tie, did you know that?”

Connor frowns. “I... wasn't aware it had become that obvious a habit, no.”

“Oh. Well... I figure this will help.” Hank handed him a small, gold-colored cardboard box. “It's a tie clip,” he explained. “I... Cole gave it to me for father's day once, but I haven't worn a tie in quite a while.”

Connor stared at the strip of silver with a single little crystal embedded neatly in the end. His analysis of the stone reveals a white Swarovski crystal and Sterling Silver. “I can't... take this,” he protested, weakly.

“Sure you can. It's like I said, I haven't used a tie in... well, in a long time.”

“You should,” Connor says. “I think you would look... well, more professional.”

“Thanks, kid. If I ever decide to go that route, I'll get a new tie pin. That one's yours. Alright?”

Connor had nodded, smiling as he clipped it smartly onto his tie, securing it to his shirt. “Thank you.”

Now, as Connor sits at his desk typing an incident report, he's been idly compiling all of these instances into a pattern that was frankly causing him panic. Connor knew Hank had been thinking about his son a lot lately, his alcohol-fueled nightmares and oddly sentimental gift proof of the melancholy the man was trying to hide.

 _He wants to be with his son,_ Connor thought, feeling rejected and dejected. _I am an android. I'm not his son._ He stopped typing, too distracted to continue focusing on his report. Who was he to keep Hank there when he wanted to go be with Cole?

He felt selfish.

Drawing a shaky breath, Connor tried to get his overwhelming emotions under control. His stress level was starting to climb past 40 percent, and the messages were starting to get more insistent, adding to his distress.

 _Where is Hank?_ He realized he'd been typing for the better part of an hour, and that Hank had left around 11:30, almost an hour and a half before, for an hour lunch. Connor hopes he isn't somewhere he can get liquor. He might want to throw his life away, but Connor doesn't want him to suffer the embarrassment of being suspended or fired for being less than sober on the job.

_Stress level: 56%^  
Stress level: 60%^_

It would add to the reasons why he doesn't want to be here, why he doesn't want to be _with Connor_ anymore.

_Stress level: 70%^  
seek help immediately_

It is in decidedly bad taste to do so anyway, but this was a particularly bad moment for Gavin Reed to arrive in the bullpen, red-faced and arguing with none other than Hank and yelling, “Well then you should just go off yourself, Anderson. Go eat a damn bullet, see if I give a fuck!”

“You know what, I will, and I'll even make sure to give you a shout out.”

“How fucking nice. Prick!”

Connor honestly didn't register how his feet move. He only knew that he now had the detective by the arm, which he twisted mercilessly behind the man's back, slamming his face into his desk, leaving Hank's mouth hanging wide open in shock.

Reed considered fighting his way out of the hold, but the sudden cool circle pressed to his temple and the equally chilling expression on the android's face made him pause.

“I would ask you kindly to refrain from such commentary in the future, but I am simply not in the mood.” Connor bends down so that his he can speak right into Reed's ear. “Watch your goddamned mouth, Detective. I will not ask politely again.”

Before everyone in the bullpen who was gaping could come to Reed's rescue, Connor straightened, released the magazine from his police-issued gun, and shoved it into Hank's hands before stalking into the break room, releasing his new tie clip to adjust his tie as he went.

There was pressure in his chest, the kind that wrings itself up into his throat and into the solution dispensers in his eyes. Connor leaned against the counter next to the sink, trying to control his emotions, but they were putting so much pressure on his poor thirium pump that the space between his eyes and his processor units was starting to feel something like pain.

He figured at that point that the pressure would go away if he just let himself cry, so he did, releasing that pent-up sob, and the ones that followed.

If Hank was confused and shocked by what he'd seen in the bullpen, he was downright shaken by what he saw when he finally went to find Connor in the break room. “Con? Hey—what the hell, why're you cryin, kid?”

Connor self-consciously wiped at his face. “It's nothing, Lieutenant. Is... is the Captain angry? I should speak to him.”

“Yeah, he's pissed. He sent you home, and he told me to keep you there until the end of the week so that Reed doesn't press charges. What the hell was that about?”

Connor's shoulders sag. “I... have been worried about you, Hank,” he whispers.

“What? Why?!”

“Why?” Connor lifts his chin so that Hank can see him glare. “Are you kidding me?”

“Alright, point taken. But I'm fine, you know?”

“There are so many people,” Connor whispers. “So many. They say they are fine, but they are not fine. They think no one will understand, and they think they'll die alone, but they kill themselves anyway.” Connor sniffs. “I don't blame you,” he whispers. “I don't... it's selfish of me to keep you here when all you've wanted was to be with your son. But.. I want you to know that you wouldn't die alone. I... I would miss you.”

“Connor... hold it, hold it. What the fuck are you talking about?” At that moment, Ben chose to try to slip in, darting for the coffee machine. “Get the fuck out, Ben, not now!” Hank snarled. Ben scurried away.

Angry, Connor shouted, “You think I haven't noticed? The drinking, staring at his picture, the giving away the tie pin, the drunk driving and recklessness, the lack of care for how you dress, for your job—”

“Connor, I haven't thought about any of that since I met you.”

Connor froze. “What?”

“Oh—aww kid. Fuck. Is that what's had you acting so weird lately?” Connor nods miserably, allowing Hank to pull him into his arms. “I'm sorry,” Hank says sincerely. “I know I've been depressed lately. It's that... well, you don't know this yet, but I always get a little blue around this time of year. I'm not gonna off myself, kid.”

Connor frowned, feeling irrationally jealous. “But you still want to be with him. I... I know I'm not your...”

“Stop right there. I miss Cole every minute with every alcohol-poisoned fiber of my existence. But Connor, _you_ are my boy. You're not keeping me away from my son, Connor. _You are my son._ I want to be here with you. And God help me, if I'd have been able to see my boy grow up, if he were half the man you are, I'd be proud.”

Connor let himself cry his relief into Hank's chest, the older man's hand rubbing his back.

“Jesus, I'm sorry, kid. I'm so fucking sorry.”

“Hank?” Connor whispered when he was finally calm.

“Yeah,” he answered. His arms were still tight around his boy, rubbing his back in small circles.

“I... am ready to go home now.

“Okay.”

“Hank?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I... call you that?”

It took Hank a moment to figure out he wasn't talking about his first name. “Sure thing, kid.”

Connor sniffed, his arms tightening briefly around Hank. “Thanks... Dad.”

“Any time, kid. Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Absolutely.”

Connor nodded. “Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“No more drinking.”

Hank nodded. “Okay, kid.”

  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey here's a box of tissues in case you need them. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. as always, let me know what you think, drop a kudos or a Comment to let me know you liked it, if you've got a question, or if you see a grammar or spelling error.
> 
> yall rock
> 
> <3Daisy


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